


Wished Here

by bleebug



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, OUAT 6x10, Princess Emma, Wish World, enchanted forest, episode rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 04:46:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8783683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleebug/pseuds/bleebug
Summary: Killian goes to the Wish World to find and rescue Emma. (A reimagining of 6x10.)





	

“Genie of the lamp, I wish for Killian Jones to be sent to the same place as Emma Swan.”

They’d discussed the plan ahead of time, all agreeing that they needed Regina to stay in Storybrooke while the Evil Queen was still threatening the town. Her magic would be invaluable to the team and they couldn’t risk everyone’s lives in case it took more time than expected to get Emma home. David needed to stay with Snow and it was too dangerous for Henry, so ultimately they all had agreed that Killian would be the one to go.

He watched in smug satisfaction as the Evil Queen’s eyes widened, mouth falling agape as Aladdin, in his elaborate Genie garments, smirked and raised his hand.

“Your wish is my command, Master.”

In an instant, he went from standing in the middle of Regina’s gaudy office to stumbling around across dirt and moss, feeling slightly nauseated from the whoosh of magic that took him to… what appeared to be the Enchanted Forest.

Upon a cursory glance of the surrounding woods, he found no evidence of Emma or anyone one else in the vicinity. With a sigh and an indignant grumble, he picked a direction and started walking, weighing the possible consequences of outright calling her name aloud and quickly determining that it was probably not the best idea. He _would_ find her. But he had no idea what that bloody wish had done to her, what kind of twisted version of reality he was traipsing through.

And then he heard _whistling_. He turned his head and saw a line bodies wandering down a dirt road not far away.

_Dwarfs_ , he thought, grinning at the thought of being one step closer to Emma.

He pushed through the brush and called out to them, hoping they would have knowledge of Emma and where he could find her. He wanted to get her and bring her home, preferably with as few obstacles as possible.

“Hey!” He finally stepped onto the path behind them and they all whipped around to look at him. “Hey, dwarfs. I… I’m looking for someone. Emma. Do you know where I could find her? It’s urgent.”

Upon their first glance at him they seemed completely unaware of his identity, which was to be expected, he supposed, but it felt strange all the same. Leroy – or Grumpy, as it were – took one look down at his metal appendage and took a stumbling step backward, shock painting his features. 

“You- you’re Captain Hook!” he shouted, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction.

“What’s a villain doing in these woods?” another yelped, already turning away.

“No- wait, I’m not a villain anymore. Just hear me out-“

“Run! We must inform the King and Queen immediately!”

“Hey! Wait!”

His plea came on deaf ears as the lot of them turned tail and ran as fast as they could away from him and out of sight.

_Well_ , _so much for this being an easy mission_ , he mused. 

He ran his hand through his hair and huffed in frustration. He’d have to settle for continuing his search on his own. She couldn’t be far. He could _feel_ that she was here, somewhere. He just had to keep his wits about him. 

The path he followed was somehow both familiar and unfamiliar. Every time he stepped forth into small clearings, he almost felt a sort of déjà vu followed by a profound sense of perturbation.

He had once wandered these very woods with Emma, trapped helplessly in the past while trying to patch up a torn-apart history. But it just felt… different. Wrong. False. Like someone had rebuilt the entire forest on a large stage set, like any characters dwelling in them would be actors reciting lines from a play. 

It unnerved him.

He spotted something ahead, something large and decidedly not green. He strode forward with purpose and choked on an incredulous laugh when he discovered what it was.

Snow and David. Or, well, a statue of them at least, both standing tall with their weapons in hand and their gazes aimed straight forward. His eyes trailed down to the inscription below.

_‘On this spot Snow White and Prince David heroically defeated the Evil Queen.’_

“Bloody hell,” he whispered, the words spilling involuntarily through his lips.

The wish had sent Emma into a world where her parents had defeated the Evil Queen before she could cast her curse. Which would mean… Emma would have been raised here, by her parents, by the King and Queen. 

In this world, she would be Princess Emma.

He almost repeated his curse as the realization hit him, but then a melodious humming reached his ears. It was so sickly sweet, so happy, but it held the same familiar-unfamiliar edge that everything else here did.

And he just _knew_.

He breathed her name, not even a whisper, and then followed the sound of her voice.

Seeing her, hair in soft braids, a long, delicate gown covering her body, a basket full of flowers slung over the crook of her elbow, happily singing a song he was sure he’d heard at some point back in Storybrooke, was a shock. Because she was real, unlike the world they were in. This was his Emma, even if someone else was occupying her mind with false memories.

A twig snapped loudly beneath his short boot and the noise seemed to startle her from her charmingly innocent task of picking wildflowers, her gasp echoing in the space between them. Her gaze bore into him and for a moment, he let himself hope that maybe this Emma knew him somehow, had some scrap of memory of him hidden beneath her new identity. Or perhaps she knew the version of him from this world. 

(Was he still a villain? Was he still that ruthless, heartless pirate he was before he’d met her and everything changed?)

“Wh-who are you?”

Her stuttering question brought his naïve hope crashing to the forest floor below them. Not only did she not know who he was, she definitely didn’t know who _she_ was. Emma Swan’s voice did not tremble in fear at coming across a stranger. Emma Swan did not cower the way this woman clearly did.

“Killian,” he said quickly, shifting his hook behind his back in case her response to it was anything like the dwarfs’. He gave a short bow. “Captain Killian Jones, Your Highness. I apologize for startling you.”

Her shoulders marginally relaxed and she placed the flower in her hand into her basket before taking a tentative step forward.

“Captain, you said?” Her eyes washed over his form and he internally cringed as he realized what he must look like in jeans and his short leather jacket. This was hardly Enchanted Forest attire. “Pardon me, but what on earth are you wearing?”

“Ah, yes.” His throat cleared and he risked closing the distance between them in a few slow steps. “Apologies. I’ve just come from a faraway land, you see. I’m afraid I haven’t had time to find something more proper to wear.”

“A faraway land?” 

He could see the little spark in her eyes and it made him grin. 

_Oh-ho, look who’s interested in hearing stories of adventure_.

“Aye. Another realm. Another world, actually. One where…” He hesitated, wondering if she’d hear him out this soon. There really wasn’t any choice. He had to risk it. “One where all this-“ He gestured around him. “-never happened. A place where you, Emma, are the savior.”

The clear interest faded from her face in favor of suspicion and distrust and he nearly panicked, trying to figure out how to backtrack and ease himself back in her good graces. But what would be the point of lying, of trying to hide is purpose? Wouldn’t it just make it that much harder to get her memories back and go home?

“Look, I know this is hard to believe, but I need you to trust me. You _are_ the savior, and this world… it’s a dream. It was made from a wish. It isn’t real. And… I need you to come with me. Come home. Your family is in trouble and they need the sav- … they need _you_ , love.”

She shook her head in disbelief, backing up with stumbling steps until she was half-hidden behind a tree trunk. His brow creased, his hand futilely reaching out for her.

And then a bloody arrow whizzed past his head, embedding itself in the tree beside him. He ducked belatedly, heart hammering in his chest as he faced his would-be attacker.

_Attackers_ , he corrected himself, swallowing thickly as a much older Snow and David came barreling into view. The King and Queen were dressed in expensive fabrics, furs wrapped around their shoulders. Naturally, his mission would be impeded by the Charmings.

“Step away from our daughter, villain!” David ordered, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Killian had no doubt that this version of his friend would cut him down in an instant if he thought Emma’s life were at risk.

He held his arms up in surrender, sighing at the fact that his hook was now clearly visible to Emma. He had hoped to keep his identity from her just a bit longer.

“I swear I have no ill intentions, Your Majesties.”

“You’re Captain Hook,” Snow scoffed, glaring him down with more fierce than even her husband. “The dwarfs informed us that you were wandering this path.”

“On your knees, now. And remove your hook.”

Killian turned back to Emma for one last attempt to sway her.

“Emma, love, this isn’t real. These people… they’re creations. Fake. Your real parents are in Storybrooke right now and they want you to come home.” He took a solid breath. “ _I_ want you home.”

For just a moment he thought he saw something flicker behind her eyes, maybe recognition, maybe not, but whatever it was, it quickly vanished. 

“Mom, Daddy, please help.”

With that, David unsheathed his sword, the sharp tip hovering inches away from Killian’s face when he turned around. Snow’s bow was drawn tight, the strength of her fingers the only thing keeping the arrow from piercing his flesh.

What he wouldn’t do for Regina’s magic right now – a swift, simple poof of smoke to take him out of this situation and away to think through his strategy. But alas, he was not blessed with any form of magic, only his skill with a blade (useless at the moment, seeing as how he didn’t think to bring a bloody sword) and his dashing good looks (which didn’t seem likely to help in this particular circumstance).

So he did the only thing he could. He sank to his knees and detached his hook, tossing it at their feet. Surrendering was not his style, and far from enjoyable, but at least being arrested meant he’d stay close to Emma.

Right?

 

\---

 

He’d been in his fair share of brigs, had memories of being stuck in dank dungeons and steel cages, even that dreadful cell in New York where he had nothing to eat but those “baloney” sandwiches. But this was possibly even worse.

Not because the accommodations were lacking, no. There was actually a cot for him to sleep on and the food was close to palatable.

But he was _alone_.

He’d been locked up for nearly a whole day, cursing frequently and hoping that David, Snow, Henry, and Regina were doing all right without him there to help. His sleep was fitful and came in short bursts, his mind too preoccupied with thoughts of Emma.

With a frustrated groan, he banged his forehead against the metal bars holding him. Their Royal bloody Highnesses had scheduled his trial for the evening. Rather quick, but he supposed this… Wish World, for lack of a better name, seemed suspiciously void of darkness and crime. For all he knew, he was their only prisoner. 

He hoped he’d be able to see Emma, to talk to her again, before he was surely sentenced for his crimes. The thought of her not remembering who she was, of her real life, the one that included him, was much more terrifying than the thought of Snow and David ordering his death.

Did they do that in their kingdom? Kill violent criminals? He didn’t even know. And it wasn’t really them, anyway. It was a perversion, a twisted reality, regardless of how nice and safe they made it out to be.

He spent his time in uneasy solitude, trying and failing to come up with a plan to fix what the Evil Queen had broken. From experience, he already was aware that True Love’s Kiss did not work on those whose memories had been altered. How else to bring about her true nature?

How else to push her to believe?

He wished he had thought to bring the storybook with him.

A clanging noise jolted him from his thoughts and he stood ramrod straight as the sound of footsteps approached. While he hadn’t come up with a way to return Emma’s memories, he _had_ formed a decent escape plan. As soon as the guard opened his cell door, he’d lunge for the man’s weapon and knock him out.

But he was shocked to find that the person peeking around the corner was not a guard at all.

“Emma?”

She shied away a bit, her body tucked against the wall around the corner, her hand curled around the edge of the entryway.

“It’s improper to call me by name.”

Despite the boldness of her words, her voice was small and hesitant, as if she’d easily change her mind were he to ignore her demand. He both found her attitude endearing and frighteningly wrong. It was Emma but it wasn’t.

“Sorry, Princess. It’s habit, I’m afraid.”

Her fingers delicately tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and she took a step out from the shadows.

“Habit. Because of this… different world of yours? Where I exist but I’m… the savior?”

“You believe me, then?” he asked, unable to stave off the smile tugging at his lips.

A couple of very small, unsure steps forward and she was mere feet away from him, clutching her hands together against her chest. Her eyes were still guarded and he took some comfort in recognizing the similarity between this look and the one Emma Swan had given him atop a beanstalk. She was afraid to trust him.

“No. I don’t believe you.”

His heart sank a bit, but he didn’t let it show.

“If you don’t believe me, why did you take the time to come down here, Highness? It’s not exactly a place you come for pleasure.” He considered building that into an innuendo, but thought better of it. This version of Emma was already skittish enough as it was.

“I…” Her weak voice faded out and her gaze flittered about the hall instead of meeting his.

“You can tell me anything,” he assured her. He wrapped his fingers around one of the bars and let his face brush against them. “As it appears, I’ll be a dead man soon, anyway. Can’t spill your secrets then, can I?” 

She seemed to visibly shudder at his words and he delighted in the thought that she might actually care a little about his life. It was far better than nothing. 

“Just… the place where you’re from. You said it was… Storybrooke?”

“Aye, that’s right.”

Her brow ruffled adorably and she took another few steps forward. If he were to reach his arm through the bars, he could touch her.

“And you’re telling me that… Storybrooke is a real place. It’s not some dream world that I made up. It’s where you’re from?”

“Where we’re both from,” he corrected, slowly easing his arm outside the cell so as not to startle her. The very tips of his fingers brushed against her shoulder. “The Evil Queen made a wish that you had never been the savior. This whole world is a result of that wish. All your memories were taken away and you were given… new ones. Of a life where you grew up here, where the Dark Curse never happened and everything that made you the savior was stripped away.”

Softly, slowly, she closed the distance between them, and his hand eased over hers, unclenching her fist and bringing her knuckles up to his lips.

“I came here to save you, love. I know that… you must be happy here, having everything you could ever want-”

“Not everything,” she whispered, eyelashes fluttering as she looked over his features. He could almost, _almost_ reach her lips to kiss, but then she was yanking her hand away and stumbling back against the wall. “I… I should go. I shouldn’t have come down here.”

“No, please. Emma, wait.”

“I’m sorry.”

The cell felt colder as he watched her run away. And when the guard came an hour later to take him before the King and Queen, he couldn’t find the will to go through with his escape plan.

 

\---

 

‘Trial’ was a generous term. It was more a rabble crowding around and ordering his demise.

The King and Queen hushed everyone multiple times, but Killian didn’t really care about any of it. His eyes were focused on Emma, the woman he loved, standing to the side of her parents and averting her gaze through the entire ordeal.

Her name fell from his lips several times, which seemed only to further anger Snow and David, not to mention their loyal subjects.

In less than ten minutes, his fate had been sealed.

On charges of piracy, murder, and threatening the life of the princess (how ridiculous; he would never have hurt her), the penalty was death by hanging. He figured as much, but in a way he was still surprised. The Snow and David he knew would never do something like this.

He felt like there was something sinister about this Wish World, as if it were acting as a sentient entity and trying to rid itself of him like he was some intruder, a virus that it needed to eradicate before he caused any more damage.

But hell if he was going to go down without a fight. He struggled against the guards and his chains, proudly knocking several men twice his size out before they subdued him again.

“You’re Emma Swan!” he shouted, furiously trying to appeal to the woman who was hidden away beneath layers of false memories. “You’re the savior! You grew up an orphan because your parents sent you away to save you. You had Henry when you were seventeen and in prison for a crime you didn’t commit. You gave him up, too, because you wanted him to have his best chance."

He hoped she could hear him over the sound of the crowds yelling around him.

“You came to Storybrooke because of your son. He came to find you. You went there and you saved everyone from the curse by believing in magic and in yourself, by giving Henry True Love’s Kiss. You were reunited with your parents, Emma, after so long of not knowing them.”

Even as they dragged him away to the hangman’s noose, he did not relent.

“You fell through a portal and met a villainous pirate who had nothing but hatred and darkness and loneliness in his heart.” His voice broke on his words, desperate to have his Emma back and to not fail her family. “You saved him. You saved me, Emma. You gave this wretched, unworthy man a second chance at a good life. And I am _so_ in love with you. I always have been.”

His breath stuttered as they wrapped the rope around his neck, fear gripping him as he realized this might actually be the end for him. Death was no stranger, but it was almost insulting that it might find him here in this world of lies with his beloved watching, not even knowing who he was.

He could see now that her eyes were trained on him, her hands curled into tight fists at her sides. She looked afraid. It gave him hope.

“And _you_ love _me_ , Emma Swan.”

“That’s enough!”

King David’s booming voice was meant to quiet his ramblings to Emma, but it succeeded in settling the entire courtyard into a tense silence. 

“You’ve been found guilty of heinous crimes, and you will pay for them.”

“Daddy, wait.” Emma’s voice came out as a terrified whisper, but loud enough that Killian heard. He very nearly sobbed in relief. “I think this is wrong.”

“Emma, you know who he is and what he’s done. This is to protect our people.”

“Your father’s right. We mustn’t let a threat to our kingdom remain here.”

“But-”

“Emma Ruth. The trial is over and his sentence has been decided.”

Emma blinked rapidly, nearly in tears, but she did not argue with them again, stepping back and lowering her head in deference.

_Do something,_ he wanted to yell. _You’re Emma bloody Swan._

Instead his shoulders slouched and he started mumbling a prayer of sorts to Zeus, hoping the god still held enough fondness for him that he’d intervene if necessary. (He doubted it. The debt had been repaid in that regard.)

The hangman tightened the noose around his neck and Killian took a deep, shuddering breath as he contemplated his potential demise. He _really_ wasn’t ready to go back to the Underworld, no matter if Arthur had restored balance there or not. And he couldn’t let Emma be lost here in this fake world for the rest of her life. He would not fail her. He would not fail her family.

He kept his eyes on Emma, watching her wring her hands together and sway uncomfortably on her feet and glance between her parents and the hangman and him. If he squinted, he could nearly make out the sheen of tears over her eyes.

“Stop this,” he urged her. “You can do it, Emma. I believe in you. You’re the savior. _My_ savior. Emma-“

He wondered how cliché it was that it felt as if the world was moving in slow motion around him as the hangman pulled the lever off to the side, his feet no longer standing on a solid surface as gravity pulled him under. His body felt so heavy, the ropes around his neck constricting and the breath catching in his throat and burning his lungs.

His love’s eyes widened, brows pulling together, her lovely mouth (beautifully tinted with soft red balm that he desperately wished he could kiss away before his end) falling open on… was it a gasp? A scream? He couldn’t hear anything anymore except the rush of blood in his ears.

But then her hand reached out towards him and all his senses returned, hyper focusing on the sight of that colorful flash bursting from her palm, of the feeling of weightlessness and warmth spreading throughout his body, the sound of her distraught cry.

“ _No!"_

Everyone froze, though perhaps not as literally as he had. He was hovering in the air, suspended several feet above the ground, high enough that the ropes were still loose around his neck.

Murmurs and gasps resounded amongst the people, and even the King and Queen looked taken aback. But Killian ignored them all in favor of watching as Emma looked down in awe at her hand, flexing her fingers and curling her fist.

“Swan…?” 

Gods, he hoped this was his Emma. 

Her hands dropped to her sides and she smiled knowingly.

“Killian.”

There was recognition there, in her voice, in her eyes, and more importantly, there was _love_. He grinned, so relieved that he released a long, shaky breath that might have almost been a sob.

Emma bunched her skirts in her hands and rushed over to him, smiling away even as her parents – would-be parents – called out for her to stop. She came to rest right in front of him and with a wave of her hand, the rope disappeared and he landed on the ground on unsteady feet. 

It didn’t matter. His arms were around her in an instant and he felt hers around his neck. He breathed her in. She smelled different, some strange perfume clouding the scent of her, but he found he didn’t really care.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” she sighed against his shoulder. “Sorry I almost let you…”

“Hey, it’s fine,” he reassured her, pulling back to look at her. She was nibbling at her lip as she always did when feeling anxious.

“It’s not. You almost died, _again_. And I nearly let it happen.”

“Love, I knew you’d save me. I had faith in you.”

She chuckled incredulously, sliding her hands over his jaw.

“Yeah, well, next time maybe don’t cut it so close, okay? I know you could have escaped the dungeons if you’d wanted to.”

“Well, preferably there won’t be a ‘next time,’ aye?”

She nodded in agreement, absentmindedly flicking her hand to the side when guards began to rush towards them to undoubtedly pull them apart. Killian glanced at them, silently laughing at the way Emma sent them flying away and onto the ground in front of the throngs of people watching the entire scene unfold.

“We best abscond ourselves and figure out how to get home without the whole kingdom trying to kill me.”

“Your wish is my command,” she smirked. He found it in himself not to groan at her teasing remark, instead just rolling his eyes as she enveloped them both in a puff of pure white smoke.

They were on a sandy beach when the smoke dissipated, away from danger and blessedly alone. Emma was still in his arms, her princess attire soft against his fingers.

She pulled one hand away from his behind his shoulder and a gleam of light bounced off the object dangling from her hand.

“I thought you might want this back.”

He chuckled and released her, graciously taking the hook from her and sliding it into his brace, turning it and locking it in place with a satisfying click. He then used it to brush a wisp of hair behind her ear. 

“Much better,” he agreed. He surveyed the empty area around them. “Any chance you know how to get back to the real world?”

“Well… I think we probably need to find ourselves a magic bean.”

“Aye… and how do you suppose we go about that, hm?”

Her tongue darted out to lick her lips and she grimaced. He already knew what she was going to say before the words left her mouth.

“I hate to be the one to suggest this, but… well, in this world, Rumplestiltskin is locked away in a cage that he can’t escape.”

His jaw ticked, unhappy with that option but unable to think of an alternative at this point.

“He’s going to want to make a deal.”

“Well, what’s the worst that could happen? We make a deal to get the bean, leave, and then… isn’t it like this whole world ceases to exist if I leave? The whole point of this place was to keep me trapped. Even if we give him something he wants, there’s not really anything he can do that matters.”

“I suppose so…”

“Killian, if you don’t want to, we can find another way.”

He shook his head. Despite his reservations, asking the Dark One for help would likely be their best bet at getting home as soon as possible. He could look past his own history with the man if it meant leaving sooner.

“No, love. I may not trust that crocodile, but I trust you.” His hand found hers and he entwined his fingers with hers. “Let’s get a bean and go home.”

“Yeah.” A soft smile played at her lips and she tugged on his hand, bringing him closer. “But first things first…”

Her free hand slid around his neck as she pulled him down, pressing a firm kiss to his lips. He smiled into it, his left arm winding around her waist. He almost expected a burst of magic to flow forth from their bodies, the echo of True Love’s Kiss flowing around them, but there was nothing but the electric connection between them.

This wasn’t a curse, after all. It was a Wish World, and they would have to leave as they’d leave any other realm, with a portal.

She pulled away all too soon and his eyelids remained closed for a few more moments. It was such a relief to have her back, even if they were – once again – stuck in the Enchanted Forest and searching for a way back to Storybrooke.

When he opened his eyes, she was right there, beaming at him like nothing about this ridiculous situation bothered her. She had just regained all of her memories, all the years of abandonment and hurt and loneliness, and it was like it hadn’t even fazed her.

“You’re okay?” She tilted her head in confusion. “It’s just… I remember what you said last time. That regaining your memories was like… waking up from a really good dream.”

Understanding dawned on her face and she sighed, dragging his hand around her waist to join his hook, then gliding both of hers up and over his shoulders.

“This… wasn’t like that.”

“No?" 

“No. This was… it was like… I thought I was happy, but when my memories came back, I just… I realized that this life was far from perfect. I don’t know how to explain it. But in any case, as soon as I remembered who I was, where I’m from…” She pulled him down into a tight embrace, pressing her forehead to his cheek. “It felt like coming home. A good feeling. I promise.”

There was no hint of a tremble in her voice, no lie in her words, and it was a great comfort to him. He knew she would have wanted her memories, but had spared a thought to regret taking away this life from her. It seemed he had worried for nothing.

“Now,” she huffed, kissing his cheek and drawing back. He adored the confident square of her shoulders and the twinkle of mischief in her eyes. This woman was regal on her own; no fake princess memories necessary. “Let’s go see a Dark One about a bean.”


End file.
